


Winter-Spring Relationship

by Icka M Chif (mischif)



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Age Difference, Getting Together, Happy Ending, M/M, Marking, Mistletoe, New Years, Overprotective, Pining, Púca | Pooka, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-22
Updated: 2013-03-22
Packaged: 2017-12-06 02:36:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/730607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mischif/pseuds/Icka%20M%20Chif
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Appearances are deceiving, Bunnymund gets hit by a clue-by-four,  Jack really can take care of himself, and the Groundhog is a jerk.</p><p>Aka: The one where Jack isn't as young as everyone thinks he is, and Bunnymund kinda fails to deal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Winter-Spring Relationship

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [Earthstar](http://archiveofourown.org/users/earthstar/pseuds/earthstar) for letting me not panic and over-think, and to [Inkandpencil](http://archiveofourown.org/users/inkandpencil/) for the beta and grammar check.

The party came to a stop as Punxsutawney Phil, the Groundhog, flew through the air, half covered in shards of ice. The temperature of the room dropped by ten degrees as everyone turned to look in the direction he'd come flying from, a few people preparing for attack. 

Jack Frost glowered back, his body pale with frost, a snowball forming in one hand. "I _said_ -" He growled, pulling his hoodie collar aside to place the snowball on a bite mark that was already darkening his pale skin. "-I'M. _**NOT**_. INTERESTED." 

With a frosty glare at the roomful of partiers, Jack turned and strode out, literally steaming as ice evaporated off of him into the air.

Bunnymund found himself torn between admiration and fury. Admiration, because while Jack looked like easy pickings with his young appearance, easy smile, and lack of staff with him, his fellow Guardian was far from helpless. 

Fury because no one, _no one_ had the right to push themselves on to Jack. Especially without Jack's consent. 

Shame and guilt quickly followed on the heels of fury, cooling it to a low mutinous rumble instead of a berserker rage. Bunnymund of all people had no leg to stand on there. 

"Bunny!" Tooth's sharp voice caught his attention, the Guardian of Memories waving an arm in the direction Jack had just disappeared. "We've got this. Go check on Jack; you've got your medkit with you?"

"Right here." Bunnymund nodded, noting the way North and Sandy were looming over the sprawled Groundhog, both radiating a dangerous aura. He pulled the first aid kit he always carried with him off the back of the bandoleer. As a rule, weapons were locked up in the coat room for the duration of the New Year's party, but there’d been nothing said about medical supplies or water. 

Tooth nodded and grinned, flashing her pearly whites as she turned menacingly towards Punxsutawney, who let out a little squeak and transformed into his familiar two foot height, removing most of the ice in the process. 

Bunnymund gave them one last look and purposely headed out of the room, following their youngest member. He was the most logical choice to do so, being the group's de facto healer, with the mix of salves and wraps he carried on him, along with water. Australia was a dangerous continent and he never went anywhere unprepared. 

And it was probably also a good idea not to further escalate the long standing mutual annoyance between Bunnymund and Punxsutawney.

Jack hadn't gone far, leaning against the railing at the edge of the large balcony outside, a crisp cool Wind twining protectively around him, as if it could form a defensive barrier. Bunnymund hesitated for a moment, then cleared his throat, getting Jack's attention. "I have a salve that should take care o' that bruise." He offered, holding up the egg-shaped container as peace offering.

Bunnymund got a grateful look in return, Jack losing some his angry posture. The Wind calmed, brushing past Bunnymund as if looking him over, then faded away. "Oh, thank goodness." Jack said, pulling his ice-encased hand off his shoulder as Bunnymund stepped forward, intending to hand Jack the salve. "I want this mark off me, _now_." 

He wasn't expecting or prepared for Jack to reach down and pull off both his hoodie and worn linen undershirt in one easy motion, wiry muscles flexing as he did so. Bunnymund swallowed at the sight of all that creamy smooth skin on display, his usually deft fingers fumbling with the egg, opening it with a louder than normal pop. 

After over a couple decades of friendship, it wasn't the first time he'd seen Jack without a shirt, but it always took him by surprise just how _pale_ Jack was.

Jack didn't seem to notice, arching his neck to the side to bare the blue bruise, to give Bunnymund easier access to it. Bunnymund took a deep breath and let it out. Jack always pushed Bunnymund's boundaries, one way or another. "Ya sure ya want me to-?"

The look Jack gave him was almost puzzled. "I trust you." He said, with a small shrug, turning his head away again. 

Bunnymund let out another soft breath, scooping up a few gobs on the pads of two fingers. It was nice to know that Jack still trusted him, but Bunnymund wasn't sure how much he trusted himself. "It's got some menthol in it, which usually feels cool on the skin. Dunno how it'll affect ya though." Bunnymund warned, carefully smearing some on the bruise. Jack let out a low hiss and Bunnymund pulled his hand away, checking the skin. 

It seemed to be sinking in despite the thin layer of frost covering Jack. The edges of the bruise turned from purple to powder blue, then faded to the normal pale cream. "Tingles a bit." Jack commented, twisting his head to look. "Doesn't hurt, just kind of odd." 

"Salve speeds up healin'." Bunnymund explained, quietly pleased that it worked. Jack's physiology was a little strange compared to most spirits, because of his cold nature. What worked on a warm-blooded person wouldn't always work on Jack, or sometimes had an adverse effect. 

Jack hummed in return, fingers flexing in his shirt, obviously a carry over from fiddling with his staff. Bunnymund turned his attention back to putting the salve on the bruise, focusing on the darkest parts of it. 

It was the first time he'd seen Jack since North's Christmas Party a week ago and the _incident_ with the mistletoe. He still was unsure how to act around Jack after that. And Jack... Jack wasn’t quite meeting his eyes, but he wasn’t flinching away from Bunnymund’s company either.

Bunnymund felt something in his belly uncurl and relax. He hadn’t fucked up their friendship. He could live without their relationship moving any further, but he didn’t want to think about if their friendship fell apart because he’d been stupid. 

The large bite-mark finally faded away, leaving behind a sticky mess on Jack’s shoulder. “I’ll get that one too.” Bunnymund said, reaching for the the smaller, older bruise towards the back of Jack’s neck, the edges fading to a pale blue. 

Jack protectively clapped a hand on top of it. “Leave that one.” He ordered, shying away from Bunnymund’s touch for the first time. 

“But-” Bunnymund faltered. 

Jack shook his head, a small bittersweet smile on his face. “I like it.” He said quietly, looking down at the railing, away from Bunnymund. 

Bunnymund’s breathing picked up, shock ripping through him. Jack couldn’t wait to scrub Groundhog’s mark off, but he kept Bunnymund’s. _Wanted_ to keep Bunnymund’s. And as he had just clearly demonstrated, Jack could easily take care of any unwanted advances. 

Then he shook his head, retracting his hand and focusing on closing the container of salve. "Y'shouldn't." He muttered, mostly to himself. 

He'd known Jack a lot longer than Jack had known him. A _lot_ longer. Bunnymund had first run across Jack a few decades after Jack had appeared, making sure that the tunnels were clear for his googies to get up to the kids on the surface. He'd heard rumours of a frost spirit, but had ignored them for the most part as being none of his business. 

And then he'd seen Jack, laughing merrily as he danced across the ice, snowflakes trailing in his wake, and he'd been struck dumb at the joy radiating from the frost spirit. 

He was beautiful. 

Bunnymund had hidden himself, just watching until Jack had called the Wind, flying away with a whoop and a holler, twirling through the air without a care. He'd found himself smiling for the rest of the day after that, his mood lighter. It'd been a joyous Easter that year. 

Jack had been a private thing, something precious. Bunnymund was only able to catch sight of the nomadic spirit once every 5-10 years, but each time the sight of Jack and the gleeful sound of his laughter was enough to brighten his mood for ages. 

The Blizzard of '68 had felt like a betrayal, a personal affront, a slap in the face. He'd been mad as a cut snake when he'd finally tracked Jack down, the winter sprite stuck up on a tree where they'd traded insults, Bunnymund's loud and belting, Jack's high and mocking. 

Later, he discovered that Jack hadn't known what the day was. But that was years after Jack had become a Guardian, after they'd become friends instead of people who worked occasionally together to bring Joy and Happiness to kids. 

That friendship had grown into them practically living in each other’s pockets. Jack helping out during Easter, making sure Bunnymund ate and slept, the two of them coming up with pranks to play on the others in their down seasons. Staring up at the stars, talking for hours while the rest of the world was fast asleep. Exploring the globe for new flowers, colours, and tastes for chocolates. 

He'd spent most of a day after the realisation that he felt more than friendship towards Jack being all twitterpated and clumsy before reality reared its big ugly head again, in the shape of a large furry paw. Distinctly non-human paw. Because even while he could change shape if he really wanted to, he couldn't change what he was. 

A stubborn, scarred, jaded old warrior who measured time in Eras consisting of millions of years. 

Jack was the complete opposite. Jack was still young, barely out of short trousers, everything fun and exciting to him. Full of potential and hope. The whole world was open to him, so many new chances and experiences. 

He loved sharing Jack's company and the time they spent together, but he wasn’t willing to rob Jack of the same opportunities he’d had when he was younger, of courting, finding a mate, possibly having kits. Being with someone his own age. And species. 

So with Bunnymund's trademark will and stubbornness, he'd spent ages ignoring his attraction, figuring he had it well in hand. That he was careful that Jack saw him as no more than a good friend. 

Then the Christmas party happened. 

North’s Elves had gotten ahold of mistletoe, running around like little lunatics in the rafters with it, wolf-whistling at the Guardians and Yeti below to get them to kiss. Jack was adept at avoiding being caught under the Mistletoe, but Bunnymund had given and received kisses from North, Sandy, Tooth, Phil, and a couple of other Yeti before the party started to wind down. 

He’d just been getting ready to head out too, saying goodnight to Jack, who was staying at North’s to help clean up when they’d been caught by the sprig hanging in the entranceway. No Elves, no one else around to blame it on. 

He’d meant to keep it short and sweet, a laughing kiss on the cheek like the others, but Jack had turned his head at the last second, lips meeting. 

The first kiss had been short and sweet. The second as well, right on the heels of the first. The third kiss lingered, and the fourth... 

Bunnymund stopped counting after the fourth. 

He'd finally come back to his senses at the loud crack of ice, his hands up Jack's hoodie, feeling the chilled bare skin of Jack's back, teeth worrying the pale flesh at the back of Jack's neck, right where it curved out into the shoulder. 

Jack was pressed up against the wall, making small gasping sounds as he panted for breath, pale blue lips swollen from kisses, hands pressed against the ice covered wall behind him. There was a wild, horrified look on his face as Bunnymund pulled away, huge blue eyes staring. 

Ice... Jack didn't usually make ice. He made snow, dancing flakes when he was happy, heaping clumps of it when he was playful. Ice was for extreme emotions, usually rage or terror. 

The entire wall was covered in ice, at least an inch thick. 

They stared at each other for a moment, and then Phil appeared, shouting and motioning for Jack to hurry up. 

Jack had run a hand through his hair and said he'd be right there, visibly pulling himself together. He'd patted Bunnymund on the arm as he passed, disappearing back into the Workshop without a backwards glance. 

Leaving Bunnymund cursing himself for a fool. 

“Why not?” Jack bristled defensively, dragging Bunnymund’s attention back towards him, and the bite mark on his neck. “Why shouldn’t I like it?” 

Because it was a reminder that Bunnymund had hurt Jack. That he’d slipped up, done something he had no right to. Because it shouldn’t be there. 

Because he wanted to do it again, do it properly, and have it _mean_ something. That Jack was Bunnymund’s, just as Bunnymund has been Jack’s. 

Because he wanted more than just a stolen moment.

"What? You going to tell me that I should be looking at some _girl_ instead?" Jack sneered, bristling defensively, when Bunnymund faltered for words. The Wind picked up around them, ruffling their hair. 

Bit of a non-issue really, considering Bunnymund was the one to kiss Jack. 

It wasn’t as if gender was a factor most immortals were concerned about anyway. Eternity was too long a time to worry about such an inconsequential detail, like the colour of one's hair. It meant even less to a shapeshifter, who could change what gender or genders they decided to be. Speaking of shapeshifting.... 

"How about someone closer ta your own _species_?" Bunnymund growled back. It wasn’t a big deal to him, but a lot of people had hang-ups about appearances. 

He got a blank look in return, which quickly turned into a disgusted face, like Jack had just bitten into something bad. "Right. Cause _Corpses_." Jack shuddered, continuing on sarcastically. "Real big turn on." 

It was Bunnymund's turn to look confused. 

Jack scowled, pulling his white linen shirt out of his hoodie and pulled it on with brisk movements. "I wasn't **alive** when I was Chosen." He snarked, reminding Bunnymund. Jack didn't like to talk about it much, the fact that he couldn't age or bleed like the rest of them can. "I _died_ , and then Manny brought me back. Not a lot of walking cadavers out there." 

There were, some. A few Vampires and their ilk, but the thought of Jack and a bloodsucker left a queasy feeling in Bunnymund's stomach. 

"Fine, what about age then?" Bunnymund waved a frustrated paw. 

Jack narrowed his eyes, jaw grinding silently for a moment. “Right.” Jack said, looking away, his shoulders slumping as he visibly deflated. 

Bunnymund’s ears rose and twitched slightly, thrown off by Jack’s sudden change of mood. Jack was loud and defiant, he didn’t _do_ ‘tired’. He occasionally got sleepy, or exhausted after a long knock-out drag down fight, but Jack was never ‘tired’. It set him on edge. 

“What?” Bunnymund asked, trying not to bristle at the unexpected shift. 

Jack shook his head, looking disappointed as he pulled on his blue hoodie, leaving the hood up and hiding his expression. “Nothing.” 

Bunnymund stared at him for a moment, then sighed, running a hand down his muzzle. "Right." He said heavily, making an effort to reel his temper in. "You’re gonna need ta explain that, cause I'm missin' something here." Something that was weighing heavily on Jack's mind.

He could see Jack jaw flex again, fingers almost curling into fists, arms twitching as if restraining from hitting something. "If I was North, would we be having this conversation? About being too young?"

Bunnymund snorted. "No." He loved North, really he did. But as a loud, obnoxious brother. One who was entirely too fond of his knives. 

"Tooth?" 

"Not hardly." The lass would have him strung up by his cottontail for interfering with her business. And once again, swords. 

"Okay." Jack nodded. "How about... Groundhog?" 

Bunnymund wrinkled his nose. "Definitely not." He’d rather not think about Punxsutawney in general, much less in any scenario that the old Groundhog had a potential date. 

"Uncle Sam?" 

"No." Loud, pompous, and entirely too fond of nonsensical patriotic phrases. How the heck was something 'As American as Apple Pie' when the dessert was done by the Dutch and the Swedes centuries before the country even existed?

Jack nodded. "Sam patted me on the head the first time we met and offered to 'Show me the ropes' of being a spirit." 

Bunnymund grunted, privately surprised that the Patriotic spirit still had his hand. 

"Bunny..." Jack turned his head enough that Bunnymund could see the rich blue of his eyes. "Uncle Sam is over a hundred years younger than me." 

He hesitated, wanting to argue. He vaguely remembered a '[Brother Jonathan](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Brother_Jonathan)' and a star and striped gowned '[Columbia](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Columbia_\(name\))' in the Colonies about the time Jack first appeared, but Bunnymund hadn't been interacting much with other spirits back then, and their appearances had kind of faded away as the country grew. He knew for sure that Uncle Sam hadn't appeared until around the first hellish World War. 

Bunnymund wasn’t sure if Brother Jonathan had turned into Uncle Sam the same way Columbia had turned into Lady Liberty, or if they were two separate entities. Either way, they were still younger than Jack’s 300 plus years. 

"Punxsutawney's less than half my age." Jack continued, fingers clenching and unclenching as he waved a hand in the air. "Earlier, he was bragging about predicting the weather for the past _157_ years." 

... That young? 

“North’s only about 500 years old, he was studying Magic with Ombric when Da Vinci’s first inventions started coming out, 200 years before I was born.” Jack frowned. “And Tooth’s at least TWICE as old as he is! And no one cares about _their_ age difference when they’re sucking face!” 

Bunnymund barely refrained from grimacing. He’d walked in on the two of them trading ‘sweet nothings’ under the mistletoe at the party and wasn’t in a terrible hurry to revisit the image at the moment. 

Partly from jealousy, but mostly because North had been missing a few articles of clothing and giggling. 

And Tooth didn't wear clothes at all. 

"There's a lot larger of a difference between several million years and-" Bunnymund waved a hand at Jack, gesturing to all of him. 

Jack scoffed in return. "Compared to you, we're _all_ infants, even the ones who look ancient." He waved an irate hand back, then paused and added with his usual dry humour. ".... Except maybe Sandy. Who doesn't count, because even he doesn't know how old he is."

Bunnymund nodded, grunting in acknowledgement. Sandy wasn't sure if he'd come into existence before or during the Golden Era, he'd spent his time as a Wishing Star sleeping and granting wishes, not really paying too much attention to what was going on around him. Pretty much the same as he did now, only with the occasional bout of buttkicking. But either way, he was still old compared to Manny and the Guardians born on Earth. 

"-But my point is that it _doesn't matter_. " Jack growled, pointing a finger at Bunnymund, the Wind picking up and whipping around them. "I'm **always** going to look this young. It won't matter if I live to be as old as you are now, I'll still look like this!" 

... Because Jack couldn't age... 

Bunnymund's appearance changed to reflect his surroundings and current role. Sandy's appearance was entirely self-chosen, his body formed from his Dreamsand. Tooth was half-immortal, and North's lifespan had been increased through magic, but both of them aged, albeit very slowly. North's hair had turned white when he'd become immortal, but he had more wrinkles and laugh lines around his eyes now than he did a few hundred years prior. 

But that would never happen to Jack. 

Something uncomfortable rolled in Bunnymund's gut and he felt like hitting his head against something. He'd _known_ that Jack didn't age, but the repercussions of what that meant had eluded him. 

He'd still fallen for one of the oldest tricks in history. _Never trust appearances_. Just because someone looked young didn't mean that they were.

And Bunnymund had no excuse, he was a ruddy shapeshifter with millennia of experience. He ought to have known better. 

Jack was right. If it wasn't for the fact that Jack looked as young as he did, Bunnymund wouldn't have spared a thought to worry about their age gap. 

"-And you know what? I bet I'll still be impulsive and fun-loving because _that's just who I am._ " Jack continued, on a tear now. "I'll always be mistaken as a kid, with this stupid hair-trigger body that tries to go off like a rocket the first time the guy I like kisses me-"

"Wait, _what_?!" Bunnymund's head snapped up, staring at Jack. 

Jack's jaw snapped shut with a click, the Wind fading away as abruptly as it had come. "Nothing." He said sullenly, the ambient temperature around him dropping as hoar frost crept over his face and clothing.

"No, back up." Bunnymund straightened. "Cause there was _ice_ all over that wall. Not snow, ICE. I thought ya were tryin' ta not to-" He waved a hand in the direction they had come. "- _Groundhog_." 

"What?!" Jack turned to stare at Bunnymund, meeting his gaze with a startled look. "No! I was trying gain some control so I didn't embarrass myself! I _liked_ it! A Lot! If I hadn't then I would have-" Jack also waved a frustrated hand in Punxsutawney's direction. "- **Groundhog!** Dammit, Bunny! I can take care of myself!" 

"I know, I know." Bunnymund groaned, tugging on the fur on the back of his head. Not only had Jack survived 300 years on his own, but he was smart and strong enough to give Bunnymund a run for his money when they sparred. Bunnymund was still better due to experience and having a bigger bag of tricks, but the gap wasn't as big as it once had been. 

That still didn't prevent the urge to want to protect Jack, even from Bunnymund himself. "I bollocksed up." He admitted with a grumble, leaning on the balcony railing. 

"It's a good thing I know you." Jack growled, kicking at Bunnymund's ankle with a cold bare foot. It didn't connect, more a gesture of frustration than actual desire to harm. Jack grumbled half-heartedly as he leaned on the balcony next to Bunnymund, close enough the the longer hair on Bunnymund's arms brushed Jack's shoulders in a way that spoke of silent forgiveness. "Stubborn, paranoid, over-protective rabbit..." 

Bunnymund huffed in return, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards in a brief smile. He had good reason to be, given his history. If worse came to worse, he wasn’t sure he had it in him to outlive everyone again. Especially his family, or another mate. 

"... I kind of freaked out too, when I first realised I liked you." Jack pushed the hood back on his head a bit, uncovering a crooked smirk. "I mean, you're so...” Furry? Alien? Cranky? “ _...Old_."

"Oi." Bunnymund leaned in Jack's direction, nudging him. "Watch it, whippersnapper." He warned, trying to keep the amusement out of his voice and failing.

"We could always say we're having a 'Winter-Spring Romance'!" Jack grinned brightly. 

Bunnymund raised an eyebrow. "You've been sittin' on that one for a while, haven't ya?"

"Just a bit." Jack nodded, blue eyes sparkling. It made Bunnymund want to kiss him, to mould his lips along the curve of Jack's smile, but if he started now, they might not stop for a while. And they were still at a party; the others would probably be out to check on them soon. 

Jack’s face turned sombre, glancing back out over the balcony. “Although, as much as it pisses me off, I’m kind of glad it was something you were concerned about.” He admitted softly

“Oh?” Bunnymund inquired. 

“Yeah.” Jack ran a hand up the back of his head, shifting his hood back a bit. “You wouldn’t _believe_ the propositions I've gotten because people think I’m only about as old as I look.” He grimaced, giving a theatrical mock-shudder. 

Jack had the strength of personality and the power to stand up to Pitch with no believers backing him up, after 300 years of isolation. He was a Guardian, a protector. And while he was young compared to the rest of the Guardians, as he had so eloquently pointed out, Jack was not _that_ young. 

“I take it ya sent them flyin’?” Bunnymund drawled, shushing the part of him that was growling at the idea and ready start hunting. 

Jack grinned, all teeth. “Oh, yeah.” He said, a dangerous gleam in his eyes. Jack took great delight in taking care of himself. 

Course, sometimes a bit of back up weren’t always a bad idea neither. 

Bunnymund leaned over, pressing his forehead against the side of Jack's head, breathing in the sharp icy bite of Jack's scent. Jack made a pleased sound, low in the back of his throat as he leaned against Bunnymund. Bunnymund really wanted to kiss him. 

“After the party, wanna go embarrass ourselves?” Bunnymund asked, smiling as Jack’s breath hitched. Jack had more casual physical contact now than he had before joining the Guardians, but he still wasn’t acclimatized to being touched. He had a hunch that Jack would be on less of a hair-trigger once it wasn’t quite so overstimulating. 

But in the meanwhile, it’d be a lot of fun to play with. Besides, it wasn’t like rabbits were extremely well known for their long staying power. 

Jack pulled away just far enough to shoot Bunnymund a dirty look for the phrasing, then leaned back against him reaching an arm up to twine his fingers in the fur at the side of Bunnymund’s neck. “Mark me again?” He requested, fingernails scratching lightly at the skin. 

Bunnymund couldn’t quite stop his purr of delight. “If ya want.” He said, trying to sound casual. He knew where too. Right where Punxsutawney had tried to stake his own claim. 

“Yeah.” Jack nodded. “Want to mark you too. So everyone knows to keep their paws off.” He added darkly. 

“Oh-ho.” Bunnymund chuckled, liking this new side of Jack. “Possessive?” 

“Just a bit.” Bunnymund could hear teeth in Jack’s voice, the hair on the back of his neck rising. Jack muttered something darkly about Nymphs being all over him, and Bunnymund remembered helping some sisters out of the punch bowl earlier. 

Hot damn. He’d just discovered a new kink he’d been unaware of having. “Be a tad hard, with the fur.” Bunnymund pointed out, curious as to how Jack thought of getting around it. Human skin showed marks so much better. 

Jack ducked his head. “I... Had an idea.” He said, pulling away to turn and face Bunnymund. “May I?” 

Bunnymund paused, examining Jack’s face. “You’re sure?” He asked. “We can stay as friends.” It’d hurt, but he could do it. It wasn’t too late for Jack to find someone else, someone better suited to his joyful nature. "Marking, exchanging tokens... This ain't casual." That was probably the thing that bothered him the most about the mark on Jack’s shoulder. 

Jack gave him an annoyed look. “I’m sure. I was sure before before I kissed you, I’m definitely sure now.” His expression shifted to a wolfish smirk. “We’re both rather stubborn when we make up your mind.” 

“Yes.” Bunnymund agreed. “But I am rather set in me ways.” 

“I know.” Jack nodded. “But... I like it when I’m around you. You make me feel more grounded.” 

Bunnymund huffed, cupping Jack’s jaw with a hand. “You make me feel like flyin’.” He quietly admitted, not having the words to truly express how happy Jack made him. Although he really did prefer to keep his feet on the ground, flying under someone else’s control gave him the willies. 

The grin he got back was incandescent. 

“Alright.” Bunnymund straightened up. “I still think you’re getting the bum end of the deal with this old Pooka, but have at.” 

Jack flashed him a dry smile, then raised his hands, burrowing them into the thick ruff that covered Bunnymund’s chest. Jack combed through the long fur it with his fingers for a moment before starting to do something that Bunnymund couldn’t quite see. 

After a moment, Jack leaned forward, putting his mouth on the strand he’d been fiddling with, then blew on it, making Bunnymund shiver. “There.” Jack said with a nod, stepping back. 

Bunnymund looked down, discovering that Jack had braided some of the longer strands together, then tied it off with a bead of ice that glinted in the light. “A love lock.” He murmured, pressing it to his chest, where it rested above his heart. 

He hadn’t seen one of these since the last of the Pooka died. 

“It’ll evaporate eventually.” Jack said, reaching up to fiddle with the bead. There was enough fur between the bead and his skin that he didn’t feel the small bit of cold. “So I’ll have to redo it occasionally.” 

Bunnymund smirked, tapping Jack’s shoulder, where his bite mark was. “Probably as often as I have to remake those.” 

Jack reached up and touched the mark, giving Bunnymund a broad grin. “So no more reservations?” 

“None.” Bunnymund agreed. He’d probably get some flack from some of the other spirits for being with someone who appeared so young, especially considering his own advanced age, but Bunnymund could deal with that. The important thing was that this was what they both wanted. “You?”

Jack shrugged. “I was mostly afraid you weren’t interested.” He said, sounding old.

“Nope.” Bunnymund wrapped an arm around Jack’s shoulders. He was certainly interested. He wanted Jack in his life, his Warren, his bed. 

_Their_ life, _their_ Warren, _their_ bed. Together. 

Jack leaned against him, wrapping an arm around Bunnymund’s waist with a soft pleased sigh. The Wind rustled around them, playfully ruffling Bunnymund’s fur and Jack’s hair. 

Bunnymund would have to tell Jack about how he’d originally met Jack and fell for him. Not tonight though. Tonight was for new beginnings, not old history. 

“There you are!” Tooth’s cheerful voice rang out. Ah, that had been the Wind warning them. Jack just turned his head in the direction of the doorway, his hood falling off as he did so, but didn’t move away. 

Tooth clapped her hands together, a delighted grin on her face. “Oh, I’m so glad the two of you made up! I’d hoped this would give you a chance to talk whatever was bothering you out. It’s not like you guys to avoid each other.” 

Jack and Bunnymund exchanged a look. Jack shrugged. They did spend a lot of time in each other’s company. 

A stray suspicion niggled at his brain and Bunnymund frowned. “Tooth...” He gave her a skeptical look. “You didn’t set this up in advance with Punxsutawney, did ya?” He would hate to think he owed the Groundhog for anything. 

Tooth blinked her large eyes at him, looking surprised. “No!” She protested, expression innocent. Almost too innocent and Bunnymund wasn't quite sure until he heard North's derisive snort. 

“-Groundhog is merely an braying ass.” North rumbled, stepping outside with a thunderous expression. It lifted into a relaxed smile as the Wind swirled around him, drawing his attention to the stars above. “Oh, is much nicer out here!” 

“Yeah.” Jack agreed with a grin as Sandy joined them as well. “So do I want to know what you did with Punxsutawney?” 

Sandy, Tooth, and North exchanged amused, blood thirsty looks. “Let us just say that Groundhog is not on welcome back list.” North said, stroking his beard with a pleased air. “You are not only one to turn down his ‘illustrious’ offers tonight, merely most emphatic.” 

“I’m almost sad he didn’t try it on me.” Tooth sweetly added, her wings buzzing menacingly. 

“Hah.” Bunnymund gleefully snorted. He would have enjoyed seeing Punxsutawney get taken down a peg. Maybe next time, the Groundhog hadn’t proven himself the brightest of learners in the past. 

“Hey.” Jack glanced around. “What time is it?” 

North pulled a pocketwatch out of his sash and checked it. “After midnight.” He rumbled, looking surprised. “We missed the countdown.” 

“I think the countdown happened while we were in the process of tossing the Groundhog out the door.” Tooth said, looking smug. Sandy echoed the sentiment and Bunnymund wondered just what the Groundhog had said to set them off. 

Jack laughed, tilting his head up to look at Bunnymund, eyes sparkling. “Well, they say to start off the New Year as you mean for it to continue.” 

“Fightin’?” Bunnymund drawled. Well, they were Guardians.... 

“ _Protecting_.” Tooth said with a great deal of dignity, coming to hover next to North, who gave her an amused look. Sandy’s shoulders shook with silent giggles. 

Jack rolled his eyes. “Close enough.” He muttered, tilting his head back so it rested against Bunnymund’s chest, giving Bunnymund an amused look. They’d probably been making up when the bells tolled. 

Bunnymund gave an amused hum, wrapping both arms around Jack. Next year. They’d greet the New Year traditionally next year. 

And with a little luck and hope, for many more after. 

-fin-

**Author's Note:**

> According to wiki, the [first recorded mention](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Punxsutawney_Phil) of Groundhog’s Day is 4 February 1841, which would make the holiday 172 years old. However, according to the [Punxsutawney Phil website](http://www.PunxsutawneyPhil.com), 2013 is his 127th trek.  
> -The fic takes place a couple of decades in the future, hence ‘over 157 years’. 
> 
> Random Fact: In 2013 Punxsutawney Phil was [indicted for purposely misinforming people](http://www.3news.co.nz/Prediction-groundhog-faces-death/tabid/417/articleID/291679/Default.aspx) about when Spring would arrive.  
> The Onion was calling for Punxsutawney’s [to be beheaded.](http://www.theonion.com/articles/punxsutawney-phil-beheaded-for-inaccurate-predicti,31712/)


End file.
